


Foodline

by jamapanama



Category: Pundit RPF (US)
Genre: Apocalypse, Comment Fic, FNFF OT, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-25
Updated: 2010-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-10 07:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamapanama/pseuds/jamapanama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Stephen waits in the food line, he thinks about the world he and Jon now live in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Foodline

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the FNFF Apocalypse OT

Stephen adjusted his facemask and craned his neck to look down the line. He’d been there since four a.m., just waiting, and now the sun was coming up and people were finally starting to shuffle forward. With every step, he spun around, scanning the crowd. He was far from at the front, but there were many, many more behind him.

Crowds made him nervous now, especially since Jon had gotten sick, but he had learned to stop himself from panicking for the most part. It’d be another hour, maybe, and then he’d be heading back home, back to Jon, hopefully with something helpful this time. He had a good feeling about that morning, though he couldn’t put his finger on why.

Another step forward and Stephen grimaced. He hadn’t seen any bodies on the way into town. That was his good omen, his good feeling. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Maybe there would be no dead bodies at all today. Maybe death would just take the day off, give the whole world a break. Jon was doing better at least, sweating less, eating more. A few more days and maybe--

“Yo! Mister! Wake up!”

Someone shoved him lightly between his shoulder blades. He turned around to see a group of young teenagers standing behind him, all gesturing for him to move forward. He nodded and closed the gap in front of him, idly wondering where their parents were, but knowing better than to ask.

At least none of his children had to experience...

Maybe half an hour more.

He and Jon still had a healthy supply of food, enough for Stephen to eat a good meal-and-a-half a day, and to force Jon to eat whatever he could. They had been planning on getting out of the city before Jon had fallen ill, and had been stocking up for the trip south. Maybe they would still go eventually, once they could, but for now, if the food was available, they took it. Sometimes there was medicine in the bags, too, among the canned vegetables and dried meat. Sometimes it was even more than just baby aspirin and multi-vitamins, though it was never anything that could cure the flu. If you weren’t vaccinated, you couldn’t do a damn thing, and no one was ever vaccinated. Stephen took another step forward.

Of all the things Stephen blamed himself for, getting Jon sick was the one that stuck the most, the one he could really feel guilty over. He hadn’t caused the dust clouds or the floods, and although he might have been able to do something about that fire, if he had only been in the right place at the right time, it was he alone who had laughed when Jon had suggested they buy respirators.

They could have at least looked for them, but Stephen had liked the facemasks and had believed they would be enough. Plus, he liked to pretend he was a doctor sometimes, running down the hallway of the top floor apartment they had moved into after their families were gone. Rushing made him feel like he was important again. It was stupid and beyond immature, but it made him happy for a few foolish seconds.

Still, even if Stephen hadn’t worn one, Jon could have.

Stephen looked up the line. He could see the distribution tables now, and there looked to be enough bags left for another hour’s worth of people. Ten more minutes, he guessed. He just wanted to go home, feed Jon breakfast and water, then maybe take a nap. He was looking forward to not thinking for a while.

Jon would get better, and then Stephen could slowly stop blaming himself for this little rough patch. Jon would never even think to realize it was Stephen’s fault, anyway. Then, they could head down to South Carolina, where it was supposed to stay above freezing in the winter. They could get there before the leaves even started changing in the mountains, if there were still leaves left anywhere by then.

Stephen reached the front of the line. The peacekeepers nodded at him, though none of them smiled.

His bag in hand, he turned around and started to make his way home.


End file.
